


Miracles Do Happen

by rockfish



Category: Miranda (TV)
Genre: British Comedy, Comedy, F/M, First Time, My First Work in This Fandom, Romantic Comedy, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-20
Updated: 2013-01-20
Packaged: 2017-11-26 06:41:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/647675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rockfish/pseuds/rockfish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(Set sometime after 3x02 and potentially 3x03)</p><p>Miranda is still very excited about how well things are going with her new boyfriend, Mike - but intimacy is the one thing still beyond them. She plans a romantic evening for their first time: and while things don't entirely go to plan, they kind of also do ...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Miracles Do Happen

**Author's Note:**

  * For [vikitty](https://archiveofourown.org/users/vikitty/gifts).



> This is for the wonderful "uppercasemad", my beta reader, invite and the person who's been my spirit guide through this brave new world! =D

_Hello, you! I trust you’re sitting comfortably, because if you aren’t – then you really should be, because sitting is lovely, and only a slightly homelier cousin of lying down. And speaking of lying down – naughty! – here’s a thing I’m having a teensy bit of trouble with …_

_Tonight, Mike is coming over. Yep, that’s MY BOYFRIEND, Mike. And something tells me tonight is the night … (don’t sing, don’t sing …) We’ve been going out for three weeks now, and by American sitcom standards, “something” should have “happened” by now. But one could say my world is more that of British television (!), and therefore, I’m expecting more of a mix of Carry On and Casualty._

_The thing is, I really do fancy him, even more since things became “official”. He’s hesitant but determined, and handsome but not terrifying, reassuringly repressed but quite possibly bursting with hidden passions!?! He’s basically that serious-looking, bespectacled sort of chap you’d secretly fancy and want to get hot under the collar, even if he was talking about something dire like the fiscal cliff, or even someone falling off a regular cliff. Except, he’s – MY BOYFRIEND._

_Right, that’s it, I’ve decided: tonight is the night … WHEN TWOOO BECOME OOOONNE. Excited but terrified face!_

~~~

 

The doorbell rang, through a haze of spicy incense and indeed, the Spice Girls’ Greatest Hits.  
With a thumping heart, Miranda went to open the door. Surely, this would all go horribly wrong. It already had, no? Her ineptitude at saucy texting had ended in a slightly epileptic row of ;););););) winky faces, and her living room had enough scented candles and joss sticks in it to make her mother think she’d turned into a hippie, heaven forbid.

Michael stood there, nervous grin in place and bouquet of flowers in hand. “Hi, quirky …”

Miranda smiled. It didn’t make her butterflies go away at all, but something about his own obvious nerves made hers seem more pleasant somehow, something they shared. “Hi, Marple.” 

Self-consciously, Mike stepped forward to kiss her hello. His lips were warm and his woodsy aftershave made itself faintly known. Pulling back, he smiled endearingly. Miranda took his hand in what she hoped was a decisive way – underneath it all, she had a hunch he was just as stirred up as she was. But she was determined to be ladylike, just this once, even if she couldn’t resist Downton-ing it up a little.

“Make yourself comfortable, my dear gentleman caller, and I shall put away your overcoat,” she said, curtseying and taking his coat, and smiling a little because she knew now that Mike found these things just as funny as she did, in his quiet way. 

He grinned and handed her the coat, and as she walked to her bedroom to drop it off, she could hear him moving around the kitchen saying “I brought a bottle of red and one of white, don’t know what you prefer, I’ll just put them over here shall I? And I brought you some flowers - again, I wasn’t sure what you preferred, the saleslady said roses but I thought daisies and tulips too, why not? Variety, spice of life and all that … incidentally, is that the Spice Girls again?”

Miranda stopped for a second by her bed and just listened, smiling. He seemed to be babbling a little – maybe, he was just as nervous as she was? The thought made her heart swell with affection, and she decided to go to him, quickly. She moved towards the kitchen just as Mike walked agitatedly into the bedroom saying, “… and I hope you’re not allergic?” They collided.

Whoomph! Flowers scattered everywhere as she landed, rather gracefully, back on her bed. A fraction of a second later, Mike landed on top of her – and his hands landed, completely accidentally, on her breasts. For a hot moment they just stared at each other in complete embarrassment. 

“I’m terribly sorry –“ Politeness kicked in, with him removing his hands and adjusting his spectacles and pushing back his hair – his lovely thick brown hair – and trying to get up all at once. Miranda panicked.

“No reason to be, you are my boyfriend – feel free to feel anything freely, um,” she babbled, through utter mortification and not a little arousal.

“Uh – OK,” In just as much panic and desperation to not do the wrong thing, Mike put his hands back on her breasts, which, done deliberately and out of context, felt of course a hundred times more awkward than the first time. Again they just stared at each other. Thoughts skipped through Miranda’s head as she looked into his petrified face.

_Oh, this is NOT what I had planned, AND it’s rather odd. He’s just sort of looking scared though, or surprised. Scared or surprised? AGOG. That’s a good word … agog. Agog. THRUST – oh god no! - what next? Oh god oh god oh god. It is rather nice, though. Ooh! Seems like he agrees._

Suddenly, Miranda realised something she hadn’t noticed till that very moment. With all the nerves, she’d been expecting disaster, everything to work against her as usual. Except, in this case, fate had literally thrown him through the door and onto her – just as it had, from the start. They weren’t Miracle by name only – everything, since the start, had conspired to bring them together, not keep them apart. It was such a blissful relief after years of frustration, she kept expecting it to go wrong, and it hadn’t yet.

The nerves, then, weren’t in case something went wrong – they were anticipation of what was certainly going to happen, and a little apprehension, too – this was a big step, and in a part of her mind she wasn’t looking at right now, it felt like something of a goodbye to another dream, one she hadn’t entirely given up yet.

The silence was getting unbearable, and the pressure from his erection, undeniable. Mike began to pull away, opening his mouth to speak, and in that thrilling instant, Miranda took the initiative. She grabbed him and forcibly pulled him down for a snog, with his full weight landing comfortably on her. 

After a moment’s pleasantly surprised shock at how quickly things were going, Mike’s reserve snapped. He kissed her passionately, and his hands began, tentatively at first and then hungrily, to roam, to caress, even to squeeze. His tongue danced with hers and his body pressed hers increasingly insistently.

When they both moaned simultaneously, it stopped them for a second. She looked at him – his thick-framed rectangular glasses askew, all that lovely hair ( _lovely!_ ) mussed up and lust clouding his eyes. Miranda felt a jolt of excitement right down through her: this goofily sexy guy was hers for the night and probably ( _don’t jinx it!_ ) for more, and moreover, SHE’D put that look in his eyes, and made his breath hitch that way.

Attempting humour, she said, “I never thought I’d be doing this with Marple.”

His grin was unbearably sweet, and his breath uneven, as he said, “For my part, ‘quirky’ wouldn’t be my choice of word right now … You’re even sexier than when you were a policewoman.”

Her hand snaked up behind his head. “Come on down then, let’s be having you, as it were …”

Their mouths collided again and this time with more urgency. She found herself fiddling with the buttons of his sensible work shirt, opening it up to find a warm and hairy chest. Meanwhile, his hands were busy roaming up the back of her top. They pulled apart for a second and he raised it up over her head – it came off seamlessly, mussing her hair cutely in the process. 

In her sturdily constructed but still very pretty “special occasion” red bra, Miranda looked stunned. “That’s literally never happened. Not even when I’m undressing alone. I normally get it stuck over my head for at least one slightly scary moment.”

Mike, shirt flapping open over his not-model-like but pleasantly stocky torso, looked stunned too, but in a different way. His eyes were firmly fixed on her chest. “Wow.”

“Errmm…” With a sense that this was the point of no return, she reached up behind her bra, and unsnapped the clasp. With an eager ping, the bra flew off, landing on the floor. “Carry On!” after all, she supposed.

Mike visibly swallowed. Then he looked at her face. As their eyes met, that last bit of apprehension gave over entirely to excitement. They came together like magnets, and as their bodies met, they both shuddered with the thrill. 

With a lot of fiddling, trousers came off, leaving Mike only in his sensible (and impressively-tented) boxers and even more sensible socks, which he frantically pulled off. Then proceedings were interrupted for a moment, as he searched around in his trouser pocket for his wallet and the essential-for-peace-of-mind items within. 

At this point and despite all the lust, Miranda always got the urge to crack jokes, it being such a ludicrous process in the end. She’d normally end up saying something like “Tab A goes into Slot B – like an IKEA manual, only with less ergonomically-designed parts, ha ha”. But with Mike fiddling around with the little foil packet, her lying there in just her pants, and the looming truth of what was going to happen, it hardly seemed necessary. She caught his eye, and they both grinned, with those same companionable nerves, and that was enough. 

And suddenly, both their pants were down, and there they were. There he was. “Oh, hellooo,” she said, as he reached for her, making him chuckle in her ear. He sighed with pleasure as he leaned on top of all her soft, inviting curves, and then, he slipped into her warmth.

For a moment, everything stopped. They just stared into each other’s eyes, a shy smile on both their faces. This was actually happening, and it felt so comfortable. He leaned down to kiss her, once, gently. Then the kiss turned serious, and then, they began to rock together.

Miranda had forgotten what a lovely feeling this was: the weight of a man on her, their panting enjoyment of each other’s bodies, even that slightly absurd sex face men have (Mike’s was hilariously serious and not too far off his “reporting financial crisis” face, except when he looked at her and kissed her, and then it was an unbearably cute, earnest look of utter lust and affection). She felt the pressure building in her, and clutched at him, his lovely shoulders and back, his ( _dear me!_ ) firm bottom. 

_OH, my word. How marvellous. I’d forgotten how much fun this is – like a bizarrely pleasurable form of exercise. I can’t quite believe it’s happening, or that he’s mine – with his wonky, beautiful face and warm man body. Oh wow, oh wow ….. ohhhhhhh, wowwww!_

Pleasure blossomed through her, throughout her whole body – all self-consciousness, all British reserve even, thrown to the winds as her glorious curves rocked beneath his solid warmth a few seconds before he too, gave way. He clutched her, moaning in her ear, before collapsing on top of her, the two stretching together and sharing their residual shudders and shivers of pleasure. They hugged, body to body, just holding each other in the bed until the shaking subsided, and then, for a moment, she just smiled against his hair. She was pretty sure he was doing the same.

Mike pushed up onto his elbows, and looked at her, really looked at her, his face soft and shy with satisfaction and affection. “Hi, quirky, and all round unbelievably sexy.”

Miranda grinned back at him: he really is mine, and this is only the beginning. “Hi, unfeasibly hot Marple. Cup of tea before we give that a second go?”

“Wouldn’t say no.”

~~~

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first "Miranda" fic and indeed my first fic in literally years (and it's a smutfic, what does that say about me, heh)! I've always loved reading fic, very rarely summoned the conviction to write it, but I'm hoping that's going to change. Please let me know what you think! =)


End file.
